Recollections of Awe

I've been thinking about different literary works that have had a profound influence on me over the years, and I've come up with a list of 10 or so works that have introduced me to awe for one reason or another. So, without further ado (and in no particular order)

The Chosen, by Chaim Potok

I came across this book at a time in my life when I didn't have a ton of faith in humanity (or in God, for that matter), and I felt like it renewed my view of others and the world.

Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand

I get a lot of flak for loving Ayn Rand's books, especially since I don't share in many her views on ethics and politics, but she was the first writer who made me feel like writing could be powerful because one willed it so. And who can't be in awe at 1400 pages of beautiful writing?

The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho

I'm not so sure that I can nail down what exactly it was that I loved so much about The Alchemist, but the moment that sticks with me most is the moment when Santiago turns into the wind. The whole book is wonderful, though.

The Story of My Experiments with Truth, by Mahondas Gandhi

There is something about uncompromising passion for a cause that gets me every time, and Gandhi's insistence on ahimsa had a powerful impact on my views of life and humanity. I don't even kill bugs anymore, as weird as that sounds.

The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran

This book made me realize that there are thoughts inaccessible to me as an American, reading only western literature. It had such profound, beautiful ideas, and I knew that I could have never thought those thoughts in my time and cultural setting.

Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card

This was the first book to really evoke a physical, emotive response within me. I remember being so angry at the end of the book, and I marveled at the fact that a work of fiction had drawn me in so perfectly and been so relatable.

Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Sallinger

The two months following my return from my proselytizing mission in Ukraine was one of the most lonely and confusing periods of my life. I remember just being dumbfounded at how Holden Caulfield's thoughts captured my own experiences--my loneliness, my disillusionment at the "phoniness" of the world.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky

The infinity of youth. If you don't understand, read the book. Then if you don't understand, I can't help you.

Abhorsen Trilogy, by Garth Nix

I risk sounding completely absurd in saying that a fantasy trilogy about necromancy awoke within me a sense of wonder, but the world the Nix creates is so captivating. I literally refused to finish the last twenty or so pages because I didn't want it to be over.

Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson

I had to knock off Peter Pan, Utopia, and As a Man Thinketh to include this one, but was perhaps the work that made me most want to the see the beautiful in the mundane. Ames has a way of instilling divine import within every action, every image, and a great many of those images still stick with me as moments of shared awe.

Anyway, that's that. I've been thinking a lot about shared awe, so I'll have something more to say on that over the next few days.